From the point of view of construction, this gun does have novelties: it has a magazine and a magazine on the butt, and by means of a trigger wheel, it loads ammunition from the rear of the chamber, which indicates a trend in the development of firearms - reloading, and the reloading gun will greatly simplify the process of loading ammunition.

For a general front-loading musket, a gunpowder jar (or gunpowder gourd, gunpowder bag) must be taken out for each round of ammunition loaded, and a certain amount of gunpowder must be poured into the muzzle; Use a tracing rod (through the stick) to reach through the muzzle of the gun and tamp the gunpowder; Take out the lead bullet and put it in the muzzle of the gun, and stab it into the bottom of the chamber with a tracer staff; Take out the ignition powder and put it in the powder pool at the fire door, and aim to fire. The gun in Lin Yiqing's hand simplifies this complex process into three very simple actions, which can be completed with two hands in turn, which will obviously greatly increase the rate of fire; The design of the wheel is quite ingenious, and it solves the problem of multiple reloading through the repeated rotation of the wheel. The wheel can rotate flexibly in the hole, but also cannot have too large a gap to prevent the leakage of medicinal gas, so it is also more precise in the manufacturing process. But there is a very important problem that the designers of this gun did not solve, that is, the loaded gunpowder is in a loose state and cannot be tamped, so the explosive power is not strong when fired, which affects the range of the gun. Abukai's shooting has already been demonstrated, because the actual combat value of this gun is limited, and the structure is too complicated and not easy to manufacture, so it should not be manufactured and equipped in large quantities in the cadre army.

And Lin Yiqing judged from this that in his original historical time and space, the reason why Dai Gong was not mass-produced and lost is also this reason.

Lin Yiqing carefully looked at the ornaments and words on the gun and judged that the gun should be made by Dutch craftsmen. He came to Middle-earth as a gift to the Emperor of Qianguo.

"Lord Lin, this shot ...... It was the heirloom of the villain, and unfortunately it was stolen by this gang of thieves. My friends and I have tracked it all the way to this ......" Abkai saw Lin Yiqing looking at his family heirloom gun over and over again, and the worry that Lin Yiqing had taken the gun for himself rose in his heart, and couldn't help but say.

Seeing that Abkai said such a sentence without a head, Dai Peng couldn't help but smile bitterly.

"I've seen that." Lin Yiqing smiled and threw the Spitfire Repeater Spear in his hand back to Abkai, "Take it away!" Don't let the thieves steal it again. ”

Abukai was overjoyed and prostrated in thanks. Dai Peng was also overjoyed.

Just then, the searchers returned.

The ninjas placed a corpse in front of Lin Yiqing, who noticed that it was a person dressed in the kind of night clothes that people in the Qianguo often wear. However, there was already a bloody hole in his chest - it was caused by Qu Feipeng's shot, the bullet entered through the back of the heart, and the front chest pierced, and the power of the large shotgun was visible. In addition, the man had several arrows stuck in his body. But none of them are in the critical position.

"This is his gun, my lord." Qu Feipeng presented a spear in front of Lin Yiqing.

Lin Yiqing took the gun and looked at it, and found that this gun turned out to be a French Chasebo rifle, and what surprised him was that the front end of the barrel was actually equipped with a cylindrical silencer device!

No wonder when the other party shot Balchi just now, he didn't hear the crisp gunshot, nor did he see the flame of the muzzle!

Lin Yiqing looked at the rifle carefully, and his brows gradually furrowed.

Lin Yiqing handed the gun to Qu Feipeng. Leaning over and unmasking the corpse, revealing the face of a middle-aged man in his mid-thirties. This face has a heavy wind and frost color, it is very ordinary, Lin Yiqing looked at the other party's hands again, touched the calluses on the other party's hands, nodded thoughtfully, and shook his head again.

"Have you searched your body? Is there anything that proves identity? Lin Yiqing asked.

"It's been searched, lord, except for some hidden weapons, there is nothing that can find the identity." A ninja replied, and showed Lin Yiqing the few golden darts he had found.

Lin Yiqing took the golden dart and looked at it, these golden darts are often used by the dart players of the Qianguo Dart Bureau, and there is no inscription on them, he glanced at it a few times, and then handed the golden dart to the ninja again.

"I don't know where this person came from, but he can have such a new foreign gun." Qu Feipeng looked at the Xia Saibo rifle and muttered to himself.

Listening to Qu Feipeng's words, Lin Yiqing suddenly seemed to remember something.

"Give me the gun." He said in a deep voice.

Qu Feipeng was startled, and hurriedly handed the rifle to Lin Yiqing, Lin Yiqing took the rifle and looked at it carefully, and finally his eyes fell on the wooden butt.

He gently stroked a part of the butt with his hand, and his face suddenly became very ugly.

Lin Yiqing beckoned to the leader of the Boren cavalry, and the leader was stunned for a moment, quickly dismounted, and ran over.

"Dare to ask what the lord commands?" He asked, nodding his head.

"Do you have such a new French foreign gun in your cavalry battalion?" Lin Yiqing asked.

"Hehe, don't hide it from your lord, our Xiao cavalry battalion, the main practice is bow horses, used to learn bird guns, and later said that they wanted to be equipped with foreign guns, so they all withdrew the bird guns, but after the bird guns were withdrawn, the foreign guns were never matched, and there were no such foreign guns in the Xiao riding camp." The leader smiled bitterly and shook his head, "If there were such foreign guns, these thieves would have been taken down a long time ago, and they would not have lost so many brothers." ”

"Among the six battalions of the Beijing Army, which one will have such a foreign gun?" Lin Yiqing thought about it and asked again.

"Naturally, it's the Divine Machine Battalion." The leader replied, "The Shenji Battalion was the first foreign gun to be replaced, and at first it was bought from a foreign company with the help of Li Zhitai, and later another batch was made by the Shipmaster Gun Station, which seems to be such a French gun." ”

"Oh." Lin Yiqing didn't ask any more, and his eyes fell on the rifle in his hand again.

Qu Feipeng noticed Lin Yiqing's gloomy face, thinking that he might be annoyed by being shot coldly for no reason tonight, and was about to say something to persuade him, but suddenly thought that Lin Yiqing, who had always been cautious, should have encountered tonight's situation for the first time - unconsciously exposed to the other party's gun.

Qu Feipeng thought back to the scene just now, and suddenly understood, and couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat.

Just now, Lin Yiqing was squatting and talking to Balchi, from the perspective of this unknown killer. Bar's tall body just blocked Lin Yiqing, so he was shot in the head by the other party!

If not, then another possibility. is that the opponent's target is Balchi, not Lin Yiqing, and it is the opponent's shot that will accurately hit Balchi's head!

"Let's go!" Lin Yiqing's expression slowly returned to normal, he handed the Xia Saibo rifle to a ninja, waved his hand, and got back into the carriage.

In a short time, all of them disappeared into the night. Everything was calm again, as if nothing had happened......

The crackling of firecrackers resounded crisply and joyfully in the white snow, and laughter and applause also rang out. Outside the magnificent Prince Jing's mansion. The servants are setting off firecrackers and fireworks, and there are house slaves throwing all kinds of paper flowers in the wind, including paper butterflies, paper birds, and paper roses, all painted in gold and red. People who have seen the fireworks are rushing to grab the paper flowers. Uncovered. Some have the words "Spring Festival Money Thirty" and "Spring Festival Money Fifty" written with brushes.

Most of the onlookers applauded are the daughters of the noble family, the harsh winter wax moon is the palace skirt of the heavy brocade, the fox Qiu mink Qiu's big coat, the competition for the skirt hairpin is scattered, and the jade arms are vertical and horizontal. There are lustful children of the family who mix in the crowd and touch it, and the house slaves do not stop it, but only snicker in secret.

The sound of firecrackers, the crowding and bumping movements, the squeamish exclamations and the snickering laughter are just what makes this hilarious, and no one can turn their faces and scold on this day.

And the hungry and poor are not allowed to set foot in front of the mansion. At the entrance of the alley, there were domestic slaves who set up their shops, and there were hot porridge and bread for relief. The long line was a mile and a half away. The hungry people who got the porridge and bread had to say: "The prince has been a great grace for his life, and he will not dare to forget it again." Then he immediately found a corner and swallowed the porridge. Occasionally, someone screamed in pain, but then it turned into a sound of surprise, and it was a big bite of the bread when it bit into the silver dollar inside.

A poor man with a silver dollar can eat for two months, even if he loses his teeth for it, he is happy.

"It's snowing again." Qi Buchen stood on the street in a white robe, muttering to himself.

He remembered that that day, too, was such a heavy snowfall......

"What's your name?"

"Qi Buchen."

"Where did it come from?"

"Far away."

"Why don't you go the long way?"

"I hope to be able to hold a broom and serve the sir."

"What about serving me?"

"I hope to learn the art of cutting the sky from Mr."

"Then, you can go back."

The pine branches above his head made a low sound, and suddenly he shook, and a large expanse of snow scattered into snow in the air, drifting unfathomably in the cold wind, and spilling into the young man's long messy hair. He stood under the ancient pine, his tattered white clothes covered with fine spots of slush, silently carved from ice and snow. In the cold winter months, the wind on the top of the mountain blew like a knife, as if it could roll up his slightly slender body like a dead leaf at any time, and bury him in the deep valley in front of him. But he had stood there for a day and a night, and had no intention of leaving, nor did he see any fear.

A rudimentary suspension bridge over the deep valley of the cliffs is crumbling in the wind. On the opposite side of the suspension bridge, on the leeward side of the snow peak, is a courtyard of a detached hut, the wooden door is half open, and an old man sits in front of the door, and the old man has a huge oil umbrella on top of his head. He sat on a thick carpet and set a small table in front of him with warm wine.

Neither of them said anything more, and the old man raised his glass and drank the rest of the wine in the tin cup and turned away. He didn't get up, but turned around with his arms propped up, and everyone could see that the weak legs were broken. In the courtyard, the people covered with black towels stepped out of the snow, their steps were light and silent, stepping on the snow. Two subordinates carried the old man in a sedan chair, and the third put away the oil umbrella and table. The courtyard door was slammed shut, and no one looked at the young man again from beginning to end, as if he didn't exist at all.

After a long time, he looked up at the airy door on the other side of the suspension bridge, then sat down and took a bite of the cold hard bread from his bosom. He picked up the jar at his feet, the water in it had been frozen, and after a moment of silence, he picked up a stone beside him and smashed it on the ice at the mouth of the altar until a crack was opened. He leaned into the crack and took a sip of ice water, pouring the crumbs of the dough down, and his chest was cold, as if his blood was cold.

He chewed a few bites, poured a few mouthfuls of water, and stood up again, silently facing the suspension bridge.

Through the crack in the door, his slender figure seemed to melt into the darkening twilight. The snow began to fall again, and there was no end to it.

"It's going to be snowing more tonight, isn't it?" The old man muttered and turned back.

The attendants knelt silently behind him and did not say a word. Dressed in black, he looks like a bird in the night. The old man did not expect them to answer either, he knew that none of these people had tongues.

"Why haven't you gone back yet?"

"I'll wait for my husband to change his mind."

"Why should I change my mind? You don't know me, what does it have to do with me if you torture yourself in the ice and snow? ”

"I'm sincere."

"You are not the only one in the world who is sincere."

"I'm more sincere than they are."

The old man smiled, still sitting under the umbrella and drinking. On the morning of the third day, the snow stopped, and a tree in front of the suspension bridge quietly opened. It's thrillingly red in the silver and white. The old man sat on the opposite side of the suspension bridge and drank, admiring the plum blossoms from afar, watching the occasional trivial light red fall in the wind. Falling on the snow was as red as blood. Redder than the plum blossom was the blood of the young man, and he stood there with his hands down, wrapped in strips of cloth, and the blood oozed out and stained the white cloth red. The wind is cold and dry. His hand was swollen at first. Then it cracked, and it was stained with blood. His delicate face was also swollen, and he looked a little funny. It's just that his expression hasn't changed, and his slender eyebrows are covered with snow powder, flying obliquely.

The attendants carried the old man back again, and he took out the rest of the bread from his bosom, and two more.

"Eating one sheet a day can last for two days, and eating half a sheet a day is four days." His voice was so hoarse that even he couldn't make out it. He tugged at his chapped lips and laughed.

There is no water for a long time. He picked up the snow in his blood-stained hands and swallowed it with the bread. He chewed hard, his numb lips unable to distinguish between bread and ice, like tiny blades.

He stood up again, silently facing the suspension bridge, and it was getting dark.

"You're stubborn."

"Ask Mr. to pass me on the art of slaying the sky."

"How do you know I have the ability to slash the sky?"

"I've heard about Mr., and I've been looking for him for a long time."

"Do you know what the Heavens-Slaying Technique is?"

"Yes."

"Then you think I'll teach you?"

"I can wait."

"But you're going to die."

The old man raised his hand, and the attendants quietly carried the sedan chair out. This time, the old man did not set up a small table with an oil umbrella and warm wine at the door, and the weather became colder and colder, and the deep valley passed through quickly in the fierce wind, like the roar of a beast in the northern mountains, and then rolled upside down. The red plum was already scattered, and the petals were covered with layers of snow, and only the stumps were left lying there, like ghost claws.

The last half of the dough was eaten, and the belly seemed to be cut inch by inch by a knife. The young man sat in the snow and rubbed his legs and arms vigorously, and now he did not dare to stand still, but kept rubbing his hands and feet. He knew that if he didn't rub it, his hands and feet might freeze, and he didn't want to be a person without hands and feet, and he would have to go a long way in the future.

He tried to smile again to encourage himself, but suddenly he found that he couldn't laugh anymore, his face spasmed, and the muscles of his cheeks were frozen in the cold wind.

The old man raised his hand, and the black-clothed attendants stopped the sedan chair under the eaves.

"A child, who actually knows how much, is a quick disaster," the old man raised his head, and the only remaining eye had a piercing cold light, "Kill him!" ”

No one answered him, and the black-clothed attendants silently carried the sedan chair into the hut.

The sound of the sea came back to his ears, and he heard the waves of the tide roll up again, like thunder far away.

He stretched out his hand to touch the warm tide, the water flowing through his fingers, warm and comfortable. He turned his head sideways and landed on the beach, someone caressing the top of his head. The familiar laughter was so distant and clear that he looked up to make his way.

All of a sudden, everything was dark, and the full moon, which was as cold as silver, hung on the top of the old plum tree, and he was half buried in the snow, and there was no laughter, only the sound of the wind, and no seawater, only the piercing snow around him. The young man was frightened when he fell asleep, and he knew that he would die if he slept. He struggled to get up, but his whole body was already stiff, only the heat in his heart seemed to be so meaningful, and he lay there on his back, and saw the big black birds passing by in the night sky, as if he had taken a fancy to his dead food.

"It would be better if you died like that," he said to himself in his heart, "but why wake up again?" ”

Laughter rang out, and he turned his ear in surprise. It was laughter, but it wasn't the familiar sound of a dream, it was like a night wind passing through the woods, or a bird laughing. The strange laughter seemed to come from someone's chest, flickering and unrecognizable. Laughter, which at first seemed far away, finally gathered around him, and he tried to turn his head to look, but he couldn't see anyone. Fear erupted, and he felt like he was surrounded by unseen demons who were going to pull at his soul and then separate and devour himself.

"You can't die yet! Can't die yet! He said to himself that he was desperately trying to move, and there was a kind of exhaustion in his body that made him want to lie down forever.

A few silver arcs of light suddenly passed in front of his eyes, and his heart moved, and he finally saw people. It was the black-clad attendants, who were all crouched low at the moment, like scavenging jackals, so they were not easy to find. They only showed two eyes, but they were not loyal and silent during the day, but full of joy for killing. It wasn't a human eye at all, and the three squires crouched over, gesturing at him with evil knives as if to cut him into pieces and eat him.

The boy suddenly understood his mistake, he knew too many things, and these secrets were revealed, and it was not only this town in the mountains that was shaken, but the whole world. If the old man does not take him as an apprentice, then he can only be killed. (To be continued......)

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